The up side to having lousy weather a lot of the time is that when the weather is nice, you feel so relieved you’re almost giddy; drunk on sunlight and warmth. If it was perfect all the time, it’d be boring. (Some people disagree with me on this point, and those people remain in Southern California.) I do think, though, that if it’s sunny and 70 every day, even if you appreciate it, you appreciate it less.
When my family first moved to California (January 16, 1994, the night of the Northridge earthquake), my mom sent my little brother and I outside to play every single day. Eventually we realized that, unlike on the East Coast, we didn’t have to seize every single moment of nice weather; we could squander some of them inside, because there would always be more. It was just like this, all the time.
Nine years later, I came back East, and I complain about the weather – rain, hail, snow, sleet, wind, humidity, sometimes all in the span of a few hours – almost as much as everyone else…but not quite as much. Because the sunny-and-70 sameness is boring. (Great to visit during the winter holidays, though. Thank you, parents, for not living in New Jersey!)
And when it’s beautiful here…
…it’s beautiful. Spring here isn’t a noun; it’s a verb.
What I’ve been reading: Born Digital, John Palfrey
What I’ve been listening to: Pet Sounds, Beach Boys